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04.03h - "Atonement"
The night passed without incident as everyone turned in on the evening of the 4th day. Bismark was awakened by the last watch of the night, as he had requested, and began gathering some items from his pack. An hour before first light, he stoked the fire and knelt in the dirt. “Helm, please accept my rite... I know that I have lost your favor, but I’ve no cleric to perform it on my behalf.” He opened the book, and following the description of the rite, took the powdered silver and used it to pour an outline of a 5’ diameter circle on the cleared dirt with more powdered silver dividing the circle into quarters. He knelt before the fire, and after chanting a hymn of shame, removed his amulet, placing it in the edge of the fire in some coals with the leather strap hanging out the side. Walking over to the circle, he drew his rapier, stabbing the point into one quarter of the circle and reciting the rite. “My sword, pledged to strike down those who threatened my charges, has been wielded in anger, and I am not worthy of it.” He removed his shield, and placed it in another quarter of the circle. “My Shield, pledged to protect those under my care, has been wielded in vain, and I am not worthy of it.” He began unbuckling his studded leather armor and standing in his common clothes, placed each item of the armor into the third quarter of the circle. “My armor, pledged to protect me as I protect others, has been worn without honor, and I am not worthy of it.” Bismark stepped into the fourth quarter of the circle and knelt, bowing his head. “Your tool, pledged to guard those in need and unable to protect themselves, has failed to do so, and I am not worthy of your favor.” Bismark followed the rite for nearly an hour, reciting the titles of Helm, reading the prescribed passages and prayers, not moving from his spot in the circle “...and I humbly ask that you accept this rite of atonement,” he said, standing, and picking up the medallion by its leather strip. Putting on a leather glove, he grabbed the near-glowing medallion, and pressed it to his forearm, screaming in pain louder than he had intended, and nearly pulling it away but pressing harder until he pulled it away, leaving a brand. Several guards came running over at the scream, a couple nearby merchants waking up. Dewey snorted in his sleep, little feet kicking as the scream is incorporated in his dream. Watching the branding, one of the guards shook his head and walked away, "fucking fanatics." He placed the medallion to the side to cool, and walked back to the circle. He took the rapier, saying “My sword, I pledge anew to strike down those who threaten my charges. He picked up his shield, saying “My shield, I pledge anew to protect those under my care. Picking up his armor, he said “My armor, I pledge anew to protect me as I protect others.” and finally, bowing his head, said “myself, I pledge anew to be a shield for those who need protection.” By now, the sun had begun to rise and the party had begun waking and finding their way to their fire as Bismark softly chanted the hymn of redemption, and concluded the ritual, praying “Helm, hear me.” Bismark stood and retrieved his amulet, then carried his armor, shield, and sword over to the party’s fire. He walked over towards them, sleeves still rolled up, and dropped his armor on the ground and placed his shield over it. Then holding the rapier by the blade, he squeezed tightly enough to draw a little blood, which ran down the blade and dripped onto the shield. “Apostrofae, Able, Brynne, Gamble” he pauses, closing his eyes and taking a breath… “and Blak… my sword, my shield, and my armor are yours. today I pledge them and myself to your protection until such time as we destroy these cultists. I will be your shield to the best of my ability, even if it means shedding my own blood or laying down my own life to spare yours. You have my word, whether Helm goes with me or if he has left me completely... if you will have me.” and he sticks the point of the rapier into the ground, taking 3 steps back and kneeling, head bowed and fist clenched, dripping some blood. Brynne looked properly impressed. She looked around at her fellows, inclining her head at Bismark, then says, "I'll have ya. Does tha' mean now's a good time ter talk about spoils?" "I'm open to a talk with everyone about how we continue to work together, which includes how we split things up, certainly." Blak said. Able approached Bismark after his speech, cutting his hand on Spite’s Razor and offering it to Bismark to shake. “My blood. Your blood. Our blood." Able couldn't help but notice Pig slowly drifting closer with interest. Bismark took his hand, shaking it. "Good enough for me." Able said. Although a charter among this fellowship may not be amiss" Able nodded to Blak. Brynne nodded. "T'would certainly help avoid misunderstandin' afore it crops up" The party spent the morning discussing how they would divide spoils and discuss what could not be divided, until they came to an agreement.